Burning Blood SYOT
by Catching Fireflies
Summary: It's the 25th Hunger Games and the 1st Quarter Quell. The tributes are voted into the arena by their district, and the Gamemakers also have plans for the arena. They make sure that the victor will have scars for the rest of their life. Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds be ever in your favor! SYOT: CLOSED!
1. Red Sky's Goodbyes

**Author's Note:**

**Please DO NOT submit tributes through reviews; use PMs. The tribute form is at the end of this chapter. Thanks!**

_**Prolouge:**__Red Sky's Goodbyes_

The sun was beginning to set as Head Gamemaker Lissa Markston walked through the hallways of the tall skyscraper. The large windows let in crimson light from the sunset. Her long red braid swished back and forth as she walked quickly to the elevator and stabbed at the button for the tenth floor, her scarlet-painted, rather short fingernail standing out against the black. The elevator shot upward, rocketing through the shaft. The glass front wall of the elevator made Lissa's reflection stare back at her. Her pale skin and red hair contrasted sharply with her all-black clothes. The eerie red sunset light shimmered through the glass.

Finally, the elevator chimed as its doors parted and slid open invitingly into the hallway. Lissa strode down the hall quickly, the heels of her shoes clicking on the tile. _Damn it, they'll know that I'm late,_ she thought. _And I'm the Head Gamemaker. Shame on me._ The last part was sarcastic. Lissa had never cared about how she apparently acted just like a district barbarian when it came to her language and choice in clothing. She liked it. She always had loved being different and special. Now, that got her high up, all the way to the position of Head Gamemaker.

The doors to the meeting room opened automatically, and the eyes of every Gamemaker penetrated Lissa. "All right, come to order," she said. Her voice was low and a bit deep for a female's. "First and only order of business," she said as she stood at the podium in the front of the room. Every Gamemaker stared attentively at her. "We need something more for the arena," she called. "We need a special touch to frighten our dear little tributes even more than already." Her piercing blue eyes surveyed the room full of Gamemakers. "Any ideas?"

The crowd shifted uncomfortably in their seats. Lissa sighed and muttered under her breath, "Damn stupid sons of bitches." Luckily, she had no need for a microphone at the moment, so her own was switched off, and no one could hear her murmured remarks about her fellow Gamemakers. They would likely earn her a trip to visit the new president, Coriolanus Snow. She hated him. For one, he was barely thirty years old and in his first year in office. For another, his roses were one of the few things that succeeded in unnerving her.

A Gamemaker raised his hand like a schoolboy. "Yes?" Lissa said, turning on her microphone with a brief sound of feedback. "Any ideas from you?" She tried to smile, but she likely looked like a tiger baring its teeth.

"No," he said. "But could you open one of those windows behind you, if you please? It's becoming rather stuffy in this room." There were nods and murmurs of agreement from a few other nearby Gamemakers. Lissa almost snarled in anger like a muttation, but instead she nodded and smiled politely, turning to open the window. He was right; the air was stale in the meeting room.

As soon as she opened the window, Lissa felt free. She knew that there was a force field outside of the windows for safety measures, but the wind still got in. The cool dusk air swept into the meeting room, dispelling every bit of the stale air. Lissa sighed quietly. The red sky blazing across the horizon -and the entire sky, come to think of it- was almost unnatural. It was beautiful, though, and it made Lissa feel wild, almost like she was in District Four or something like that. The Capitol sky had always looked fake, less real and vivid, but tonight, it was like something had broken through the barrier of perfection. Something wild and free and beautiful that will never be tamed.

_I wonder if the tributes will see a sky like that,_ she wondered, her fingers leaving trails of prints as she slid them down the cool glass and stared out over the city's skyline, up to the red sky. _When they're in the arena, I want them to see that sky.__ A sky of wild red fire like this._

And then she knew what the final touch to the arena -no, _her _arena- would be.

"I have an idea," she announced, turning back to the Gamemakers. They were all staring at her, waiting. So she pointed at the sky. "A sky like this. All the time, twenty-four-seven. Red like blood." The Gamemakers' eyes lit up in excitement and approval. There was no reluctance. "And we'll make the whole arena smell like smoke and fire."

_There, President Snow,_ Lissa thought, smiling. _You'll never know that it's not to unnerve the tributes. But I am the only one that will know the truth: that I want the tributes to have one thing that's free._

**Tribute Form-**

Name (first and last):

District:

Age:

Physical appearance (please include eye color, hair color, skin color, and other important things...):

Family and background:

Reaping outfit:

Interview outfit:

Any suggestions for this district's opening ceremonies costumes:

Personality:

Weapons or other skills used for individual sessions with the Gamemakers:

Friends or lovers back in the district:

Approximate weight in pounds:

Approximate height in feet and inches:

Reason why they were chosen to be a tribute (make it a good reason, please):

**Author's Note:**

**Please submit tributes through PMs only! Thanks again!**


	2. Sundown's Red Rose

**Hello! Thank you to anyone who submitted tributes! I am very sorry to say that this is not a reaping, which means... I need more tributes! I have more than ten spots left, so please submit! These are just short little prolouge-ish chapters, and I would really like to get started on the reapings soon, but I have to have all my tributes for that. But this chapter will not be boring!**

_Sundown's Red Rose_

As soon as the meeting of the Gamemakers finished, Lissa sighed in relief, leaving the meeting room to head back to her apartment. Soon, the reapings would be held, and the twenty-fifth annual Hunger Games would begin. It made her heart race just thinking about playing such a role in how the Games would unfold. She pressed the elevator button for the bottom floor of the building, and she shot down again, relieved to have the meeting ended with good results. But just as she was walking out the double doors, one of the guards stopped her.

"Head Gamemaker Markston?" he asked. She wanted to say how obvious it was, but Lissa just nodded politely. "You're wanted at the mansion of President Coriolanus Snow." Lissa tried to conceal her shock, but at least some surprise showed up on her face. "He says that he wishes to speak with you about the Games." The guard laughed in a jolly way. "After all, it's the first Quarter Quell!"

Lissa forced a smile. "Yes, I'm sure that all of Panem will love these Games," she said with false confidence. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'd better report to President Snow now." She was trying to sound polite, but it felt so fake on her tongue. "Thank you for letting me know. Good night." Secretly, she wished him an awful night full of terrifying nightmares, but she would never say that aloud. Not when it could cost not only her life, but the lives of others.

The guard nodded as she stepped outside into the world of fading red fire. The sky was still crimson, but it was turning dark blue on the eastern horizon. She sighed. Beautiful red sky. Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful. And, if she could make it work, all the tributes could die with that same beauty in the sky above them. She sighed, getting into her car. Normally, Avoxes drove the cars for the wealthier Capitol citizens, but Lissa didn't want to depend on anyone. She started up the sleek, black vehicle and sped along the road, dodging other cars and taking shortcuts to the president's mansion. She parked and looked up at the building. It was so large that it made her feel like an ant, about to be crushed by the mansion's power. But that was nothing compared to President Snow's power.

The guards stationed at the doors let her in without question, after checking her identity. An Avox beckoned for her to go up a marble staircase to Snow's office. Lissa sighed inwardly and walked up the stairs, her high heels clicking on the marble. Then she knocked on the oak doors. "Come in, come in," called Snow's voice, and Lissa mentally removed any swear words that could possibly slip into her speech before entering.

President Snow was sitting at a large desk, typing away on a high-tech computer. Lissa studied him for a moment. Him and his damn roses. He had one red rose, just one, at the moment. Although, of course, it reeked like a whole garden full of roses. His brown hair was neatly combed. He turned to face her. "Ah, Miss Markston!" he said with a wicked grin. He motioned to a chair across from him. "You may sit."

Lissa sat down, trying to be the picture of the perfect Head Gamemaker. After all, there had only been one female Head Gamemaker before her, and she had been fired before the Games even began. That didn't exactly put the odds in her favor. "Why do you want me here?" Lissa asked, smiling and hoping that it didn't look false. "After all, I haven't seen you since you elevated my status to Head Gamemaker."

Snow smiled evilly. "I've come to ask you about the arena," he said. "After all, this is the first Quarter Quell of Panem, and it should be unique. Have you any ideas to make it exciting and even harder for the tributes?"

"Oh, yes," Lissa said, trying not to look at the red rose. "Blood-red sky. Everything smelling of smoke. The ground collapsing under their feet. A wasteland." The ideas flowed from her mouth easily as she came up with them on the spot. "Or..." And a wonderful, truly cruel idea came to her at that second. "President Snow, do force fields have to be only at the edge of the arena?"

"Not at all, but that's completely new," said Snow, his overly puffy lips twisting into a vindictive grin. "Go on."

**Author's Note:**

**Yes, this is the end of the chapter. I don't want to give away the coolest part of the arena that I have planned. And hopefully, the next chapter will be the reapings. Please please PLEASE submit if you want to! I really need tributes. I can guarantee that this will be an interesting arena. Plus, it's the first Quarter Quell.**

**- Catching Fireflies**


	3. District One- One Victor

**Hey! I'm back with the reapings of District One! I am not going to make the reaping chapters very long, since there are twelve districts. I'm going to give the credits to those who submitted in the author's notes. The male tribute was submitted by ATallTale, and the female tribute was submitted by Emmeline C. Thornbrooke. Thanks for submitting, guys! But I kind of changed up aspects of the female tribute to fit this district and the books. Sorry! Oh, and by the way, you will notice that the chapter titles for the reaping will include something to do with the Hunger Games that has the district's number in it. Just found that an interesting way to present these chapters.**

**Also, I still have spots open! Here is a list of my open spots. Keep in mind, I need tributes soon. Submissions make me very happy!**

**District Three, male and female**

**District Five, male and female**

**District Six, male and female**

**District Eight, female**

**District Ten, female**

**District Eleven, female**

**District Twelve, male**

**All right, that's it! Now onto the reaping, and may the odds be ever in your favor!**

_District One- One Victor_

Marble Cruz's POV

"I'll give you all that I can," the man promises. "As long as you get me one of those Peacekeeper's guns."

"Pay in advance," I say, holding out my hand impatiently. The man sighs in annoyance, but hands me a huge wad of money. I count it quickly, since I'm used to this. At least enough to buy some very good food for my parents for a week. Maybe I can even get a gun off the black market with all this cash. But I've got to admit, it's much more entertaining breaking into a Peacekeeper's house and stealing his weapons. I know where almost everyone in the district lives, after all. It's essential, when your job is to steal illegal items and get information that is hard to find. "Thanks, this is enough money," I say. "I'll get you the gun by reaping time."

"Is this your last year in the reaping, boy?" the man barks. "You look old enough."

"No, I'm seventeen," I reply smoothly. "And it doesn't matter how many slips I've got, anyway. After all, it's the Quarter Quell now. But I don't think that I'll get picked." That's a complete lie, the last part. I know that I'll get picked, because I had to. A bit after the reading of the card for the Quell, Bronze, pretty much the top Career tribute in the entire district, was cheating on his girlfriend. Naturally, because of my job, his girlfriend paid me to see if he was cheating on her. It took some hard work, but I figured out that Bronze was with another girl behind his girlfriend's back. I even got some good-quality pictures of them kissing behind Bronze's house. And after school let out, the entire school watched Bronze yell at me about it. I ended up getting challenged to make everyone vote for me and put me in the Hunger Games, because of the Quell. I didn't want to. I'm having regrets now, on reaping day. But I can't back down in front of the Careers. Calling them stupid sure has made me pay the price.

The man laughs dryly. "Oh, you know that's lies," he says. "You'd better be getting home. Say, you can get me the gun tomorrow, if you ain't in the Games." I'm about to protest, but then I think better of it and just nod. Gets me out of retrieving some Peacekeeper's best weapons, anyway.

"I'll see you tomorrow, then, if I can," I say smoothly, with a false smile. "Well, then, I've got to get home to my family, since it's reaping day." The man nods, and I start off down the alley, taking the shortcut back to my home with a final wave of goodbye. As soon as he's out of sight, I grin. I did pretty well. They're all so clueless sometimes. Just like Career tributes, only sometimes better.

When I get to my house, I'm less triumphant. After all, the reaping's soon, and it's guaranteed that I'm the male tribute. I walk into the jewelry store that my father, Burgundy, owns. The bottom floor's the store, and my family lives on the upper floor. I'm heading upstairs, taking the steps two at a time, trying to avoid my parents. But before I slam the door of my room, my father barges in, almost getting his fingers slammed in the crack.

"Marble!" he bellows. I wince, sitting down at the foot of my bed, glaring at his heavy form in the doorway. "Did you take some of my money?"

I sigh. As usual. He's obsessed with the money that he makes from his jewelry shop downstairs. "Dad, I never take anything, you know that," I say with annoyance. "I've gotta get ready for the reaping."

He eyes me suspiciously for a second, but then he lets me off the hook. "All right, son," he says with a sigh. "Get ready for the reaping, whatever." He claps me on the back with one meaty hand. I can tell he's about to say something, but just then, my mother, Merlot, yells from across the hall.

"Marble!" she says. "You left your dirty fingerprints all over the glass door to the shop!" I roll my eyes.

"Yeah, son, you know how much it costs out of our money to buy window cleaner every damn time you ruin our hard work?" adds my father, attempting to be half as loud as my mother, apparently. Whoever says that women aren't as loud as men must have never met my mother.

"I didn't. Now let me get dressed for the reaping," I say, slamming the door shut.

* * *

Isis Carlisle's POV

I turn to my mother, Zera. "How do I look, Mom?" I ask monotonously, as I pet my dog's fur. I look in the mirror and sigh. I'm wearing very simple clothes, just jeans and a long-sleeved shirt that are a bit loose on my slender frame. My light red wavy hair is pulled back in bun on top of my head, more to my mother's taste than mine. The gray of my shirt makes my eyes look like smoky jewels. "Is it all right?"

She sighs. "I guess, for the poorest village in District One," she says bitterly. Of course. She's obviously got regrets about marrying my father and moving to a tiny village on the edge of the district. She works as a legal assistant and goes out to the center of the district to work every day, while my father was born in this little village. Personally, I like it, living out here in the wide open woods with the sky beaming down with no city smog. "But don't you want at least a necklace?"

"No!" I say, putting emphasis on the word, scratching behind my dog Blizzard's wolf-like ears.

My mother makes a sound like she's about to breathe fire or something, but then I hear the clock in the center of the district chime out. "Mom, it's time for the reaping," I say, throwing on a sweater and running out the door. I know that I'm lucky this year. Before the announcement of the Quell, I was a bit nervous, since I'm sixteen now. But when they read off the card, I felt relieved. Even though the people in my district hate me for being poor and different, I don't think that they'd ever vote me into the arena.

When we arrive at the reaping, I go into the arena with all the other sixteen-year-olds. All of them, especially the Career tributes, start laughing at me like I'm stupid. Oh, well. I shrug and stare up at the Capitol woman who draws the reaping slips. Only, this time, there are no reaping balls. All that she has is a sheet of paper that look suspiciously like a boring, official document. I barely listen to the mayor's readings, but I start listening as soon as I hear the Capitol woman start speaking.

"Well, what a unique year this is! It's an honor to be here!" she blabbers like a complete idiot. Oh, wait, she is. "And now, I'm going to tell you all your wonderful tributes!" She squints at the paper. "Ladies first! For our lovely young lady who won this extraordinary honor by her number of votes, I give you..." _Not me,_ I think. _There are other people out there who are hated like me. Right?_

"Isis Carlisle!"

_No,_ my mind says stubbornly. _Bad dream. Wake up and pretend that it never happened._ But it's not. All the Careers are laughing again. I swallow and take tiny steps, making my way numbly to the stage. As I stare out at the crowd, I see my parent's faces. They look absolutely shocked and horrified. So they really must care about me, at least a little bit. Still, I'm pretty sure that I can make it in the Games. I'm good with survival skills, if nothing else. My mind is racing.

Then the woman smiles wide, ignoring my desperate look. "Now for the boy! And we have..." I stare at the boys, wondering who got the votes. "Marble Cruz!"

A boy from the seventeen-year-old's section of the crowd walks up the stage. He is wiry, with no muscle like the Careers, and sandy-blonde hair matched with blue eyes that clash with his clothes. He looks like he expects this. Unlike me. I didn't really think that a significant number of people would vote for me.

_Oh, well,_ I think, biting my lip as I force my body to move, shaking the boy's hand. _Maybe I can get out of this. Or maybe I can't._


	4. District Two - Final Battle

**Hey! Wow, it's really been a long time. Sorry that I didn't update the District Two reapings sooner, I had this awful disease called writer's block. :) Okay, the submitters for this district were LouisVuittonluver for the female tribute and IceVeinsVillain for the male tribute. Thanks, guys! And thanks to the people who submitted tributes after I posted the District One reaping! (By the way, I'm going to try to always do the male tribute's point of view first, just to clarify that.)**

**This SYOT is STILL OPEN! I still need tributes for the following spots:**

**Both from District Five**

**Both from District Six**

**Female tribute from District Eight**

**Female tribute from District Ten**

**Male tribute from District Twelve**

**I really need these tributes, people! I may have to ask people who already submitted to create another tribute, just to warn you. Thanks!**

_District Two - Final Battle_

Argo Veridian's POV

"Wake up, wake up!" says my sister, Georgia, in a mockingly sing-song voice. I open my eyes. Ugh, too early. "It's reaping day, ha ha!"

"Oh, you just rub it in because _you're_ out of the reaping," I say coldly, rolling out of bed and trying not to look as stupid as I feel. "Go away." Georgia's still laughing as she prances out of the room, swinging her hair. And I know why. Since it's the Quarter Quell, and the tributes are voted right into the arena, I have a bad feeling that I'm going to be a tribute.

Don't get me wrong, I've definitely trained for the Games. I'm just not obsessed with the Games like the other Career tributes from my district usually are. I'd take being a tribute as my duty. After all, I am in District Two, and here, we're all well known for our strength. But I've got a feeling that being related to my father will get me into the Games. My mother, Alum Veridian, died when I was little, and my father became obsessed with his work. He works directing the quarry workers in our stone quarries. And he's cruel about it, too. He always gets the workers injured, or even killed. And the worst part is, the workers are usually fairly young, which makes it even worse for me. People are probably taking their anger at him out on me.

Well, I've got to get ready for the reaping. If I'm reaped, then at least I should look good. After showering, I put on my tightest button-down shirt and my best pair of slacks. I look in the mirror. At least I don't need to comb my hair, since it's a buzz-cut. With the sunlight slanting in through the window, the blond of my hair almost looks golden. Sure, a lot of girls have flirted with me and said that I had good looks, but I didn't exactly care.

My father's awake, at the table, eating breakfast as I walk into the kitchen and sit down across from him, not meeting his eyes. It's almost a rare sight, because today is a holiday, and there's no work for him to do. Whenever he's home, Georgia and I tend to ignore him for the most part. After all, he as good as left us to die. He didn't provide food for us, only for himself.

I eat breakfast as quickly as I can. All of us are dressed up for the reaping, even though I'm the only one who is within reaping age. "Come on, reaping time!" Georgia sings out. I glare at her. She can't tell, but I'm wishing that I was out of the reaping and she was in it. This is my last year in the reaping. If only I was born a year earlier, then I wouldn't have to face the Quarter Quell. And I'm probably going to get picked, just because of my father. I scowl at him, but he's not watching me.

And I'll probably be district partners with some Career tribute bitch.

* * *

Audrey Syrian's POV

I twirl in front of the mirror, seeing how my reaping dress looks. The navy blue satin matches my eyes perfectly. My hair cascades in curls down my back like a waterfall. "I look great, don't I?" I ask myself under my breath. It's not like I've got any family to ask. My mom's a bitch and my dad's a drunk victor. Charlotte and Bennet Syrian, the complete opposites. But everyone loves victor's children. That's another good reason that I'm going into the Games.

My father stumbles into my room. "Hey, Audrey," he slurs. "Time to go to the _reaping_." He laughs, like the word _reaping_ is the most hilarious thing he's heard in his life. "C'mon."

"Shut up," I say. "Shouldn't you already be in the square? You're a _victor_, Dad." Sarcasm drips from my voice like poisonous honey. He usually never talks to me, so this is actually kind of unusual.

"Oh, yeah!" he says, like he's just remembered, and staggers out of my room, leaving the stink of alcohol in my room. I sigh and step into my black high heels, walking outside and carefully walking down the stairs, trying not to fall over.

Once I'm at the square, I take my place with the other sixteen-year-olds. Some of them mumble greetings, and others congratulate me ahead of time on getting voted into the Games. I take these compliments easily. I've got no friends, but I don't care. I just want power.

The chaperone from the Capitol for our district, who is wearing an outfit that is so bright orange that you can probably see it from outer space, steps up to the microphone after the mayor reads the long, tedious Treaty of Treason. "Welcome, welcome!" she squeals happily. "Now... for our female tribute, since we always should let the ladies go first!" That's so corny that I grin wickedly up at the stage. I prepare myself for walking up there. "Our lucky girl from District Two is... Audrey Syrian!"

I walk up to the stage, trying to look as powerful and dignified as possible. It works perfectly until my father manages to get it through his intoxicated brain that this is his daughter up here. "That's my girl!" he yells, standing up and giving me a big hug. I pull him off of me and glare, trying to ignore the district's laughter.

"I take it that your father's a victor!" chirps the chaperone, undaunted by this scene. I nod. "Let's have a big round of applause for Audrey Syrian!" The crowd bursts into enthusiastic applause as soon as she finishes the sentence. I try to look like I'm taking it for granted.

"Now for the boy tribute!" she says, peppy as usual. "For District Two, our male tribute is... Argo Veridian!"

A handsome boy steps right up to the stage. He looks a year or two older than me, with a lot of muscle and close-cropped blond hair. Pretty sexy. After the applause, we shake hands. He grips mine like he's going to break all my bones. Well, two can play that game. I grip his hand back, looking up -he's even taller than me, over six feet- into his almost-black eyes.

_Oh, I'm going to kill you anyway,_ I think, and I grin at the crowd.

**Hope you liked that chapter... I still kind of have writer's block. Remember, I still need some tributes! Thanks!**


	5. District Three - Alliance of Three

**Hey, people! Thanks to all the submitters, it made me really happy. And, for this chapter, thanks to Zephyrme for submitting the male tribute, and Nrrrd-Grrrl-Meg for submitting the female tribute. Okay, everyone, I am quite aware that a lot of my tributes are missing parents, have lost friends or siblings to the Games, have mean parents, or are orphans. So no flames on that saying that I shouldn't have accepted all those tributes, because all of the tributes that I got are very good. This is the District Three reapings (obviously...) but this SYOT is ****_still open!_**** I have just ONE spot left! Yay!**

**District Twelve male**

**So feel free to submit! :)**

_District Three - Alliance of Three_

Isosceles Circle Jr.'s POV

"You look very nice," says my snobbish sister, Emily, as I stare disdainfully into the mirror. "But not nearly as nice as _I_ do." She tosses her blond hair like it's so much better than having brown hair. "No wonder I'm married. _You'll_ probably never get married."

I glare back at my reflection in the mirror. Neatly combed brown hair, green eyes under my glasses, and my stupid reaping outfit of jeans, old brown hiking boots, and a red-and-green striped shirt. "_You_ don't need to look good today," I snap. "_You're_ out of the reaping. And besides, you never look good in the first place." She scowls at me, pouting a bit. She acts like a little kid when someone insults her looks, since she's under the impression that she is stunningly beautiful. When really, the only thing abnormal about her is her blond hair.

I walk into the kitchen. "Do I look all right, Mom?" I ask, a bit nervously. She isn't really that picky, but I can't exactly ask my father. My father was a rebel, and the Peacekeepers managed to catch him. And they sentenced him to a public whipping in front of the whole district, and he died. It makes me mad just thinking about it. Besides, it most likely increased the number of votes I got for being a tribute in the Quarter Quell. A lot of the richest people hate me, because usually, rich people support the Capitol because the Capitol helped them get their wealth.

My mother smiles, her green eyes sparkling. "You look fine, son," she says kindly. "Now, we've got to get to the reaping. Dmitri already went earlier." Dmitri, my brother. Of course, he always seems to be a little earlier than the rest of us. "Aren't you going to meet Randy and go to the reaping together?" I nod. Randy is my best friend. We always end up pranking the school bullies whenever they insult us, and no one's caught us yet. Of course, I have to ask him to repeat a lot of what he says, since he talks like he has a time limit for each sentence.

I nod and go outside, shutting the door carefully, and walk quickly down the sidewalk. I was almost late for the reaping last year, and I don't want to be late again. I'm turning a corner onto a different street when my friend almost runs into me. "Slow down!" I say, smiling for a second. Randy's panting like he's ran a long way, his red hair rumpled and his neatly ironed pants wrinkled with a few grass stains like he fell down. His face is flushed, making his freckles seem less obvious.

"Hey!" he says. "GuesswhatIjustsawtheCapitolpersonwho'sgoingtobeat thereapingandIheardhersaythatherhairwasfake!" he says all in one breath, grinning.

That's the thing about Randy. He talks extremely fast. "What?" I say. He starts to repeat it as we walk, but I hold up a hand. "Okay, never mind, never mind."

He turns to look at me. "Wow, what's got you pissed off?" he asks. "Look, you probably haven't got the most votes. We're both only fourteen. They're probably going to vote in the older ones."

I nod as we keep walking, but I don't really believe what he says.

* * *

Helix ("X") Aperture's POV

"Helix!" calls an elderly voice. I slam the laptop shut, swearing under my breath. "Time to get to the reaping!" One of the old community home supervisor women comes into my room and sees me. My dark red hair is still messed up from sleeping, and I'm wearing a brown skirt, running shoes, and a plain-looking red shirt that clashes with my dark green eyes and pale, freckled skin. No wonder she's horrified, but I don't give a fuck.

"I _am_ ready for the reaping!" I say with a sarcastic grin. "Don't you love my outfit?" I twirl, letting the skirt flare out. The old woman looks disapproving at first, and then laughs. "Give me a minute, and I'll be there."

As soon as she leaves, I finish sending a virus to one of the Capitol's best systems. The screen reads: VIRUS SENT. I grin, but only for a second. My old best friend, Glitch Dodge, taught me how to hack computers. See, when I was two years old, I was alone and orphaned, wandering the streets, starving. An elderly couple, Micro and Wyres Aperture, found me and took me in and named me Helix, after their rebel son who had died. But they were old, so they both died within weeks of each other when I was eight. They were like family to me. But I got sent to the community home. That's when I met Glitch. He was like a brother to me. He taught me how to hack computers and send viruses to Capitol computers. But two years ago, he got reaped. And he made it to the finale, but the boy from District Six killed him.

I stop reminiscing and stand up again. Time to go to the reaping.

Once I get to the square, the chaperone is about to announce the girl. I go with the other sixteen-year-olds like I've been here all along. The Capitol lady is grinning at everyone. "Now, everyone, for the girl tribute!" My heart pounds. It sure as hell is going to be me. The Capitol knows that I'm the one that hacks their systems, since I tend to screw up when I'm angry and get sloppy. And sure enough, she squeals, "Helix Aperture!"

I step up to the stage, not hesitating. It'd be one thing if I was surprised, but I'm not. So I can still look pretty confident. Then she calls the male tribute, after the whole district applauds, and even that sounds fake. I'm hoping that the boy tribute isn't my friend, Lyte Sparks. I don't need another Glitch. Not now. "Now for the boy! And we have... Isosceles Circle Jr.!"

I sigh quietly in relief. A boy comes up to the stage after a few seconds, looking purely shocked. I guess he wasn't expecting it as much as me. Maybe he was dreading it. I think I recognize the name. Oh, yeah, Jr. His father must have been the guy who got whipped to death. But I bet that he won't be the victor. I can't afford to consider how strong my opponents are, because that'll just take away from my confidence.

_Watch out, Panem,_ I think. _The Capitol hasn't seen the likes of me yet._

**Remember, I've only got one spot left! Thanks!**


End file.
